I'm Disaster
by dear-broken-heart
Summary: All he wanted was the perfect ending. MimiRoger.


**A/N: First Rent story. I've always been a fan of the Roger/Mimi pairing, even though it seems to be favored less than Roger/Mark. The movie made me fall in love with this pairing all over again, and even though I know this has been done before, I just had to write this!**

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"What would be the perfect ending?" Mimi asked as she lay in bed, in a haze from the morphine she'd been prescribed to numb the pain and an unrelenting fever. Roger was looking out the window of the apartment he had been sharing with Mark for years. The snow was falling lightly on the sidewalk, those who walked by creating designs in footprints. He turned around when he heard Mimi's voice.

"Perfect ending?" he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Mimi, who was too weak to sit up.

She smiled as he leaned over and she ran her hands through his hair. "To life," she replied.

"Please don't Mimi." Roger sat up, inadvertently pushing her away. He'd watched too many people die already, Angel a year and a half ago, Collins eleven months after. He didn't know any perfect endings.

"What Roger? Nobody lives forever, it's a legitimate question."

"I know Mimi, I just don't want to think about it." He got off the bed and walked back over to the window.

"Why?" She tried to sit up a little. "Because you don't want to imagine life without you a part of it?"

"No, because I don't want to think about life without you," he snapped and shot her a glare, his eyes visibly filling with tears. Mimi surprisingly just smiled. Her face was pale, gaunt, but her eyes still conveyed the same emotion. "What?" He tried not to snap at her again, but it hurt too much to control it.

"It's just part of my perfect ending," she smiled weakly, replying calmly to Roger's shouting.

"Please stop Mimi, it's not," he mumbled, too scared that if he raised his voice he'd come across the wrong way again. He rubbed his eyes, trying to stop the tears before they started to fall.

"I just always dreamed and prayed that someday, someone would love me." She smiled, this time the tears were hers. They both giggled a little at her statement, Mimi was never one for seriousness, and neither was one for tears. "Oh blame the drugs," she slid back down, her head hit the pillowcase which was stuffed with a blanket. She was still laughing a little until it turned into coughing.

Roger rushed over, a little 'over attentive' as Mimi described him often. "Are you ok?"

Mimi's coughing subsided to soft laughter again. "I was just trying to get you over here already," she joked.

"Well you were successful." He smiled as he held her close, trying to fend off the cold air that surrounded them. Mimi shivered a little.

"Make sure Mark meets Anna from the club, you know the girl I introduced you to a while ago? I know they'd be perfect together," Mimi requested. She had always been one for matchmaking, she always said she would have picked a guy like Collins for Angel.

"How about you introduce them someday, because I think you should get the credit for that match." He kissed her neck, trying to infuse her with whatever optimism and hope he had left.

She looked into his eyes, the shivering intensifying for a moment before subsiding. "Promise?"

"I promise." He felt the tears from before were returning.

"Good," she paused for a moment, her voice sounded even a little weaker, and another coughing fit racked her weak frame.

Roger held a chipped plastic cup to Mimi's lips as she weakly sipped the water. He handed her another pill from the bottle at the side of the bed. She swallowed, trying her best not to choke on it. She lied back down, her eyes closing; she felt like she was about to fall asleep.

"It's ironic that they prescribe the same drug that was part of the reason I got the disease in the first place." She smiled weakly, her eyes still closed as she cuddled against Roger, who held her in silence, his voice caught in his throat. He just listened to every breath she took, every inhale, every exhale. He promised himself he'd make sure she'd make it to Christmas. He wanted her to make it to 2 years, it was only a couple more days. It would be their two years together, he'd never been able to keep a relationship that long. He smiled at the thought of her bright eyes and lively smile that Christmas night two years ago. His heart ached at the memory of when Maureen and Joanne found her, how he knew in his mind he could of stopped it all, how two years could have easily been ten if he hadn't been so stupid. He ended the self deprecation when he realized he couldn't hear her slow, steady breathing anymore.

"Mimi! Mimi, open your eyes! Mimi!" He shook her gently , placing his hand under her chin, waiting for her eyes to open. "Please Mimi!" He didn't want her to go, it wasn't an ending fit for anyone.

She opened her eyes a little. "You weren't talking," she whispered, "I'm sorry I just feel tired…"

He hugged her as soon as he saw her eyes flutter open. His prayers turned from wishing for days to wishing for minutes. "I love you," he whispered in her ear and she returned the three words. Their words sounded broken, trampled by fear, a type of fear he hadn't felt since he lost April, and that she hadn't felt since she watched Angel die. For Roger though, this time it was stronger, it ate away at him, he wanted to die if he was going to lose her. He used to wish he could live forever, but wishing for the end was the only thing he could think of now.

"Remember the song you wrote?" she broke the silence again.

Roger of course knew, it was the only song he'd written in three years, and it was the last song he ever planned on writing. He also knew what she wanted. The sound filled the room, the words flying around. His breath was warm, mixing with the freezing cold air that chewed up the space around them. He pulled her closer with every word, but it seemed like the closer he got to her, the further away she seemed. "Please no," he whispered at the end, the tears falling freely at that point. He knew as he told her "I love you," over and over again, through tears that mixed with anger, that her soul was gone. However, his heart wasn't broken, it didn't feel broken, it was just like a piece was in a different place, waiting for him.

He glanced over at the bottle of pills on the makeshift nightstand beside the bed. That was all it would take, a few too many, and he could be with Mimi again. He wouldn't be missing that piece of his heart for long.

Glass of water in hand, he counted the pills out. Eight. That had to be enough. He swallowed one by one. He was up to six when he started to scrawl a note down on paper to Mark, when he realized he was falling to the same evil April had years before. He was throwing it all away, only this time Mark couldn't save him. He was throwing it away forever, and his best friend was going to feel the pain, again. He didn't want to die anymore, why was he doing this in the first place? Why couldn't he take all the pain for once? He read the barely legible words he'd written to Mark, it seemed like a joke. It didn't seem _real_.

He was feeling dizzy as he scribbled down a few last words on the paper.

_Angel, Collins, Mimi…me. This wasn't the perfect ending, not for any of us. I'm sorry Mark…I'm just so damn sorry. _

He lied down on the hard mattress next to Mimi's lifeless body. Maybe perfect could be the one to compromise this time.


End file.
